


Not by a Long Shot

by WhattheCatDraggedIn



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Drug Use, Drugs, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, No proofreading we die like mne, PTSD John, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhattheCatDraggedIn/pseuds/WhattheCatDraggedIn
Summary: Jason has a rough night. Uses some wares from the street. Dick finds him.Jason has had a rough life, and sometimes, it gets the better of him.Dick hates to see Jason do this to himself.





	1. Jason Todd

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is Jason's POV on this incident. Second chapter is Dick's.

Jason knew he was in deep shit when his doorbell rang. He hurried to hide all of his mess before stumbling to the door, crashing into the doorframe and smacking his head when he went for the peep hole. Dick was standing there, looking concerned. Apparently smashing through your apartment like an elephant was cause for worry. Jason sagged against the wall as he opened the door. He forgot about the deadbolt chain and the door stopped, yanking on it hard.   
“Oh, fuck” he muttered as he yanked it out of the wall and let Dick in.   
“Oh fuck is right, what happened to you, Jay?”   
“Mmmm. Painkillers?”   
Dick's worried face got more worried and he shut and locked the door as he let himself in. Jason stumbled to his couch and flopped onto it, world spinning.   
“Shit, Jay, really? The fuck is wrong with you? You know how bad this shit is! Fuck, man…. This is some hard shit!”  
Dick's voice drowned out and Jason just tried to focus on his face. The world was swimming and everything was underwater. He was tripping HARD.   
“Can you even hear me right now? Shit, that's it. I'm calling Bruce, Jay”   
Dick suddenly had his phone out and Jason only just registered what he said.   
“NO. NONONO. No no nope.” Jason tackled his arm, crumbling onto the floor with a thunk. He hit his barstool that was behind his raised counter, it toppled over and broke a bottle of something that sprayed on the floor.   
“Aw, shit. Lookit whatcha made me do, dickface. M’ fuggin floor is now disgustin. Shit.” Jason hated how his Gotham accent came out. He sounded like that trashy streetrat he is. He dragged himself up, almost falling when his hand slipped and a piece of glass stung his hand. He didn't notice and went for cleaning supplies. This shit was on carpet. He reminded himself yet again to replace the floors, but the world spun as he went to put the towel down and he ended up just falling. That was fine, now he could soak up the shit.He muttered curses when he realized his hand was bleeding from somewhere and he just made sure it was wrapped in the towel he was soaking the alcohol up with.  
“Jay… let me help you. Why the fuck are you doing drugs?”   
Jason remembered Dick was in his apartment.  
“Dickie? Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I did a bust, took out some shithole sellin to t’ kids cross t’ street. Cops came faster than I thought. Fuggin, didn't know whadda do so I took t’ shit. Figured I'd get rid of it. Nawwww. Sat in my apartment til I had a chance. Came home, fuckin wantin tonoff myslef, figured, hey! Worked for mom. Took some, don't remember t’ rest. Prolly shouldn tell ya I did drugs. Eh, Fuck it.”  
“Jay, come sit down”   
Jason looked down at his hands, which were in a towel, covered in booze and blood.   
“Gotta clean the carpet”  
“You spilled vodka, the carpet will be fine. I'll sop it up. Come sit down with me.”  
Jason didn't remember how he got to the couch, but he sat on Dick anyway. The way they used to. The way they still did, whenever they sat down for movies. Jason got comfy as Dick stroked his hair.   
“Hey, how're you supposed to clean if my fat ass is on you?”   
“I used my Nightwing gear”   
Jason doubted it, then the thought passed from his mind and he snuggled into Dick's lap. Dick softly wrapped something around his hand, which was still bleeding, as hand wounds always do.   
“We’ll talk about this in the morning. We WILL talk. I'm just going to text Bruce that you're injured and I won't be on patrol. Ok? I'll wait to tell him.”   
Jason didn't remember falling asleep. He did remember waking up, curled in a ball around Dick, who was drooling and snoring. Jason didn't remember how he got there. Then memories of being high surfed into his mind. Apparently when Dick had come looking for him, his brain decided that shoving all drug related stuff onto the floor was hiding it. His deadbolt was torn off the wall, a stool was broken and a bottle of vodka was smashed on the floor, covered by a bloody towel. His hand was wrapped, covering an insignificant cut. Jason shot up.  
“Fuck fuck fuck” he held his head, and that's when everything hit him like a train. He blatantly used drugs, and somehow Nightwing was on his couch, and that meant Bruce probably knew. The new shit, plus some of the feelings from last night that disappeared in the needle punched him directly in the stomach. He ran to the kitchen sink and threw up, then sat on the floor, hyperventilating. He heard a movement and without a second thought his gun was out of the hiding spot in the cupboard under the sink and aimed directly between Dick's eyes. Jason made a noise like a wounded animal and dropped the gun onto the kitchen floor, curling in on himself. He could see the weapon between his feet and it took all his willpower not to grab it and make some new wall art with his own brain. He kicked it away with all his force, which made Dick, who was slowly approaching, jump. Dick continued his slow approach, crouching in front of Jason's feet.   
“What's he gonna do this time? Throw me out of the city? Beat me up again? Hell, is he just going to be done with it and give me to the mobsters for a real good time?” Jason cringed at how his Gotham accent came out. It made him sound like an uneducated thug. The little reminder that he had grown up on the streets was not welcome, but it came out whenever he was upset.   
“I didn't tell him.”   
Jason looked up at Nightwing, no, just Dick.   
“Why the fuck not, golden boy?”   
“Cause it's not fair to you. Why did you do it?” Jason sighed, body relaxing slightly and Dick took the initiative to scoot over and lean against the kitchen wall with Jason.  
“I'm…. I'm suicidal. Not always, but it's there. I had a real bad night last night. I'm talkin demons from the past decided it was time to play. Some ass got a little canister of fear toxin, last time scarecrow came out to play. Nothing my hood can't filter out but it got cracked last mission and some seeped in. A tiny bit, but just enough. I took out the thugs, and one may have died. I dunno. I-I-I called the hospital and an ambulance came. End of story, not my problem. His buddy shot me and it ricocheted off my armour and hit him. Bats woulda blamed me. Anyway, little douchebag who accidentally shot his friend dosed everyone in the vicinity with fear toxin. There were six of em whimpering and shit, I knew I got dosed so I busted outta there. It wasn't enough to make me hallucinate, but I did relieve all my worst moments. It's been a rough week anyways. I got back to the pad and the shit I took off some kid dealer was still sat on the table, I haven't gotten a decent chance to get rid of it. Bottom of my to-do list. Toxin wore off, and I had a gun to my head. I decided, fuck it, my life is trash anyways, might as well fall back into old habits. I've only shot up a few times, mostly if my dad was really bad and mom was down for the count, but not in danger of drownin in her own puke. Yeah. So I shot up. Don't really remember the rest. That was kinda the point. Gave myself a LOT. Woke up, and here we are.”   
The gun Jason had sent flying was embedded in the wall. Dick cautiously reached over and wrapped an arm around Jason. They were quiet.  
“When are you gonna tell him.”  
“You know, Jay, I was going to. Now I think I won't. I can't say I'm not disappointed. If I ever find out you did this again I swear to god I'll take you out and then let Bruce have at you. I'm just disappointed.”   
Jason felt a lump in his throat and tried to swallow it. He found he couldn't.   
“Next time you feel like that you call me. I will drop everything for you. Just, please, any gods in heaven, don't let me find you like that again.” Jason felt something on his shoulder and looked over to see Dick was furiously scrubbing away tears, and glaring Jason down. Immediately Jason was called back to the times he saved his mother from overdosing. The times he rolled her over so she wouldn't drown. The times he was terrified that she wouldn't wake up. The time he found her and she didn't wake up, and when he realized that all his worry, and he'd been too late. Self hatred rolled over him in waves. Drugs were fucking scary. He of all people knew that.  
“Fuck, Dick. I didn't- I'm as bad as my parents.” He wanted to leave. Get out of Dick's life. He was just a menace. But Dick's steel cord muscles held him in tight.   
“Jason Peter Todd, you are a much better man than your father ever was. You were the most loving and caring son a mother could ask for. I know you love us, no matter what you say, and I know you. You don't want to hurt me. But Jason, I love you. More than I have ever shown. You are my world. I can't stress enough how much it hurt me to lose you and I never want to lose you ever again. I love you, Jay. We all do. Don't you ever dare make me have to bury you again, so help me I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”   
Jason chuckled at Dick's words as Dick brushed Jay's sweaty hair off his forehead.   
“Guess you're stuck with me til I'm old and gray then, cause I don't really wanna bury you either.” Jason relaxed into Dick's fingers gently scratching against his scalp. He was ok, for now. He'd be alright.  
“Ok, now get up and make me breakfast because I came over for dinner and got a huge helping of worry instead.”  
Jay chuckled.  
“Fine, as long as you don't just want cereal”  
Dick's shiteating grin was enough for Jay as he got up off the floor to start his day.


	2. Dick Grayson

Dick was hungry. This was something he often did. He'd stuff a bag with Nightwing gear and put on his street clothes, either pre or mid-patrol, whenever Jason was home, and demand his younger brother make him food. It started out when Jay invited him over, sat him down, and cooked. It had been a super rough night, they were both exhausted, and Dick wanted to go home. He had been sceptical; bat people food tended to be inedible when they tried real cooking, including his own, but it tasted just like Alfred's and tears had welled up in his eyes that night, and ever since, Jay's place was his crash house when he just needed some space. Actually, Jason would cook for any of them, including, on occasion, Damian. Dick had been shocked to see the youngest there, gliding out the door with cookies “for Jon”, and Jason sending him out the door with a   
“Don't make it a habit, Demon Spawn!”.  
Dick knew something was wrong when he knocked on the door. Thundering crashes filled the apartment, then footsteps, then banging around and on the door. Jason opened, it got caught on the chain, and his instant response was to cuss and rip the whole thing off the wall. Red eyes, puffy and bloodshot didn't quite cover the “painkillers” excuse. Jason had been crying, a lot, but something was making him fuzzy. He stumbled to the couch, stepping over a needle, a spoon and enough “supplies” to kill him. It was obvious for awhile that he didn't even hear Dick. Blurry eyes finally focused on him near the end of Dick's rant. It was only when he threatened to call Bruce, and already had his phone in his hand, Jason reacted. Dick was disgusted, horrified and saddened by Jason's usually perfect reflexes, turned to him smashing into a stool and knocking over a bottle of Vodka. The man floundered on the floor, almost falling multiple times before getting a towel, grumbling about new flooring. He fell onto the spot and began trying to sop up the bottle that was still spilling, making his efforts not only useless, but actually worse, considering he had somehow managed to start bleeding.   
“Jay, please stop. You're hurting yourself.” No response.   
“Jay, let me help you. Please, little wing, you have to stop. Just tell me, Why the fuck are you doing drugs?”   
Jason looked at him confused for a second, then understanding spread on his face.  
“Dickie? Yeah, Yeah.”  
His voice was thick with a Gotham accent, thicker than usual, and so slurred and broken. He said something about the drugs working for his mom, and Dick's heart shattered. He tucked the phone in his hand, which Jason had completely failed to snatch, away in his pocket. His voice cracked.   
“Jay, come sit down”   
“Gotta clean the carpet”  
“You spilled vodka, the carpet will be fine. I'll sop it up. Come sit down with me.”  
Dick led him over to the couch. He seemed to snap out of a trance when he got there, and laid across Dick's lap. It was a position that was usually reserved for the roughest nights. Jason was too proud and stubborn to cuddle sober unless something big happened or they needed alone time together. The lump in Dick's throat grew.   
“Hey, how're you supposed to clean if my fat ass is on you?”   
“I used my Nightwing gear” Dick lied smoothly. Confusion passed over Jason's features, but shortly ceded to a blank expression. Dick wound his fingers through Jason's hair. He reached for his bag, which was right next to him by the couch, and pulled out some gauze. He examined the cut. It had enough alcohol on it that sterilization probably wasn't needed. It was still bleeding, but not bad at all. Dick wrapped it, and promised that they'd talk about everything in the morning. He got no response from Jason. He texted Bruce.  
Dick: No patrol tonight. Jay got dosed with something, he's recovering. Refused to get checked out, will observe.  
Bruce: He's stubborn. Try to talk him into getting at least Leslie to look at him. Sometimes that works.   
Dick: No go. Maybe 2morrow. I'm staying here.  
Bruce: Good.   
Bruce texting back more than two words meant he was worried. Dick sighed, resigning himself to having to either lie about what it was or reveal Jay. He made up his mind he wouldn't tell on Jason. Something about the way his strong, body curled in a ball. The way he made noises in his sleep. The fact that he had been thinking about his mom. The fact he was suicidal. Dick couldn't stand to see the fight between Jay and Bruce over this. He curled his finger in Jay's sweaty hair and curled up, ready for sleep. In the morning he woke up to jostling on the other side of the couch. Jason ran to the sink and threw up, then, hyperventilating, sat down on the floor out of view. Panic attack? Since when had Jay had panic attacks? Dick made sure his footsteps could be heard as he rounded the corner of the counter. The second he stepped onto the tiled kitchen Jay had a gun pointed directly at him. He made a noise and dropped it, clattering to the ground between his feet. His head was in his hands, between his knees, and there had been tears in his eyes when he looked up at Dick. Was this an aftereffect? Was he still drugged out? Dick approached slowly, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jason kicked the gun with all of his strength, which was enhanced now, and it embedded itself into the wall. A glance at Dick, then Jason was back, hiding between his knees. Dick crouched on one knee, ready to jump back. Jason could be quite...volatile.   
“What's he gonna do this time? Throw me out of the city? Beat me up again? Hell, is he just going to be done with it and give me to the mobsters for a real good time?” Jason's words were harsh, but his voice crackled, barely perceivable. It sounded like a kid who had seen too much, but was bracing himself for more.   
“I didn't tell him.”   
Jason's eyes met his, a little hope shining through.   
“Why the fuck not, golden boy?”   
“Cause it's not fair to you. Why did you do it?” Jason sighed, body relaxing slightly and Dick took the initiative to scoot over and lean against the kitchen wall with Jason.  
“I'm…. I'm suicidal. Not always, but it's there. I had a real bad night last night. I'm talkin demons from the past decided it was time to play. Some ass got a little canister of fear toxin, last time scarecrow came out to play. Nothing my hood can't filter out but it got cracked last mission and some seeped in. A tiny bit, but just enough. I took out the thugs, and one may have died. I dunno. I-I-I called the hospital and an ambulance came. End of story, not my problem. His buddy shot me and it ricocheted off my armour and hit him. Bats woulda blamed me. Anyway, little douchebag who accidentally shot his friend dosed everyone in the vicinity with fear toxin. There were six of em whimpering and shit, I knew I got dosed so I busted outta there. It wasn't enough to make me hallucinate, but I did relieve all my worst moments. It's been a rough week anyways. I got back to the pad and the shit I took off some kid dealer was still sat on the table, I haven't gotten a decent chance to get rid of it. Bottom of my to-do list. Toxin wore off, and I had a gun to my head. I decided, fuck it, my life is trash anyways, might as well fall back into old habits. I've only shot up a few times, mostly if my dad was really bad and mom was down for the count, but not in danger of drownin in her own puke. Yeah. So I shot up. Don't really remember the rest. That was kinda the point. Gave myself a LOT. Woke up, and here we are.”   
Dick couldn't say anything for a second. Jason was looking down, away from Dick. His eyes had a permanent shock of green, surrounding the iris. If you looked really closely it looked like tiny veins. Or cracks. He carefully wrapped an arm around the man's broad, shaking shoulders.   
“When are you gonna tell him?” It broke Dick's heart how vulnerable Jason sounded.   
“You know, Jay, I was going to. Now I think I won't. I can't say I'm not disappointed. If I ever find out you did this again I swear to god I'll take you out and then let Bruce have at you. I'm just disappointed. Next time you feel like that you call me. I will drop everything for you. Just, please, any gods in heaven, don't let me find you like that again.”   
Dick was ashamed when his voice cracked and angrily scrubbed his own tears. He wasn't going to lie; finding Jason like that was enough to make his blood turn to ice, like hearing the Joker's laugh, or the sound of Dent's coin tinging off his thumb. It scared him. Jason immediately retreated back into himself, tried to pull away. His voice was so small Dick barely heard it.  
Fuck, Dick. I didn't- I'm as bad as my parents.”   
Dick never understood how any parents could be so evil. His parents had been the joy of his life, if not strict on sugar and training. But they loved him and protected him. Jason had been the protector, protecting his mom from his dad. Protecting his mom from herself. To compare himself to them was like comparing himself to some scary villians. Even if he loved his mother, she was the cause of some of his greatest pain.   
“Jason Peter Todd, you are a much better man than your father ever was. You were the most loving and caring son a mother could ask for. I know you love us, no matter what you say, and I know you. You don't want to hurt me. But Jason, I love you. More than I have ever shown. You are my world. I can't stress enough how much it hurt me to lose you and I never want to lose you ever again. I love you, Jay. We all do. Don't you ever dare make me have to bury you again, so help me I'll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”   
Jason chuckled at Dick's words as Dick brushed Jay's sweaty hair off his forehead.   
“Guess you're stuck with me til I'm old and gray then, cause I don't really wanna bury you either.” Dick scratched Jason's scalp gently. A sensation almost everyone loved, and Jay melted into it.   
“Ok, now get up and make me breakfast because I came over for dinner and got a huge helping of worry instead.”  
Jay chuckled.  
“Fine, as long as you don't just want cereal”  
Dick grinned. He felt like a stormcloud had passed, leaving puddles in its wake. He'd have to check up on Jay more often, as well as make getting rid of that shit a priority. It still scared him how easily Jason had decided that drugs were his best option, but as the bigger man began making something that smelled heavenly, and Dick started his morning stretching routine, some kind of normal, hopeful feeling washed over him. They weren't alone, the Robins. Not by a long shot.


End file.
